


Running Out Of Time

by Kashika



Category: Big Bang (Band)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Canon Compliant AU tho, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Other, time au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-28
Updated: 2017-09-28
Packaged: 2019-01-06 14:17:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12212973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kashika/pseuds/Kashika
Summary: Ever since Seungri could remember, he'd seen numbers on people's chests. He had to learn the hard way what they meant and how they were more curse than blessing. Until they were.And then really, really weren't.





	Running Out Of Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nero](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nero/gifts).



> This is for a prompt "Running Out Of Time" I got from the Fanfic Club on Big Bang Amino. I tried my best to make something out of it but alas, this was a bit rushed at the end so please forgive me.
> 
> I still hope you'll like it though and will have fun reading!

Ever since Seungri could remember, he'd seen numbers. Some were bright and bold, some were faded out and flickering to his gaze, all etched right across people's hearts. There were large ones his young mind had barely been able to grasp, as well as smaller ones he knew he would learn in school once he'd go there. 

 

The most prominent numbers were of his family and friends, the most fading ones of those passing him by on the streets once, never to be seen again. He'd never really known what they were for, didn't pay much attention to it either, for nobody had understood when he'd asked after the numbers on their chests when he was young. It hadn't occurred to him what they could mean until he turned ten years old. 

 

Because on the family's party of his tenth birthday he'd seen his grandfather again, only to notice that the number he'd seen on his chest previously had shrunk to a meagre size. 

 

12

 

He'd wondered, of course, as he'd never seen a number this small before, especially after his grandpa had a glowing 102 the last time they've met. He'd watched it with hidden interest the whole day, even noticing how it lessened further. 

 

11

 

10

 

When it hit nine, an ominous feeling crept up his spine that he couldn't shake for the rest of the day. Two days later, he finally learned the meaning of the numbers he'd never understood before. 

 

It was death. 

 

\---

 

People thought he was direct. Brash maybe but attentive usually. Outgoing even with strangers, all because of the way he always looked each person in the eye when he talked to them. The truth was, he just couldn't look at their chests, so he chose to look at their faces instead. Seeing the numbers slowly decline on people, seeing even just a single digit lower the next day on those who had constant numbers for weeks, months even, it made him want to close his eyes to everyone around him. Not to mention those that lost several in just a few days. 

 

It was easier to pretend he couldn't see the numbers with people he didn't know as good. So he made sure to talk to many different ones, working to never get too close to any of them. He couldn't unsee the numbers on his mother's chest, his father's and sister's and family. But he could make sure not to add to them any more than he absolutely had to. 

 

So it was almost too easy to go to Seoul, leaving his family and friends behind. 

 

\---

 

“You're a weird one.” hearing those words from big Seunghyun of all people felt almost insulting, especially because the older just started talking after coming into the tiny shared kitchen Seungri was currently supposed to clean. He didn't even put down his cloth, wiping over the stove with a little pout, not turning around. 

 

“Why are you saying that all of a sudden, hyung? That's weird, too, you know.” 

 

“Look at people when you're talking to them, maknae.” Seunghyun scolded him immediately instead. Knowing better than to give a snappy retort, he turned around, looking at the other's face. 

 

“Why are you saying I'm weird?” he asked again, feeling unusually defensive. Something in the way Seunghyun had said it just put him off, made his neck crawl with uneasiness. 

 

Seunghyun just squinted at him, tilting his head slightly. “You're doing it again.”

 

“Hyung what are you talking about?” he didn't have patience for this, the unwavering stare of the older’s eyes making him feel exposed to the bone. If it weren't for his duty to clean the kitchen he would've long made an excuse and disappeared wherever. His and Daesung's room. The bathroom. Outside. Just,  _ somewhere  _ else. 

 

“You always look at people really weirdly. Like characters in horror movies that are afraid to turn around and see the monster? Except-” Seunghyun stopped for a moment, turning his head to the other side as Seungri's heart missed a beat, “sadder.”

 

The sound of laughter coming from his mouth felt distant and foreign to him. Wrong. “Hyung what are you even talking about? That's nonsense, what would I be afraid of?”

 

Seunghyun’s expression changed to an unreadable one, as if he'd been as put off by Seungri's laughter as he'd been himself. 

 

“I wonder about that, too.”

 

He was left to clean the kitchen alone after that.

 

\---

 

Of course, he'd never told them. A kid might've been forgiven for asking about numbers on other's chests, cast aside as childish imagination. An adult, however, would most surely be proclaimed insane and just put into a psychiatry, never to be seen again. He didn't favour rotting his life away in white walled institutions with straightjackets and pills, so he kept quiet. 

 

Most of the time it was easier now, especially given their ever growing amount of fans. Playing in front of thousands of strangers, nameless faces with faint, barely recognisable numbers put him at ease. The light of crowns shining brighter than any of the ominous digits making him happy. For once, he didn't have to worry about watching the life slowly seeping out of the people he loved and cared for. 

 

Other times, it wasn't as easy. His members joked about it, unknowing of the real reasons. Complaining how he was never staying with them backstage, didn't eat or meet with them often. He denied it, of course, saying he was plenty with them, always spending time together. 

 

Neither was exactly the truth. Neither was exactly a lie, either. He loved spending time with his members, loved being with them backstage, in shows, on stage or privately. And when he had easy days, then he would stick to their sides, would spend however many hours he could with them. 

 

But when he had bad days, when he'd watched the numbers, burnt into the back of his consciousness, drop, then sometimes he just couldn't take it. He would leave the waiting room, wouldn't meet up with them to drink after a performance well done, would even rather pretend to sleep than see the changed number on any of their chests. 

 

He knew there was nothing he could do except accepting the finality of life. Yet sometimes it was easier to pretend not to see it so clearly every moment of his cursed existence. 

 

\---

 

Getting used to a curse didn’t mean it would prepare him. Knowing didn’t mean anything would get better or be easier. He’d long since stopped to wonder if the numbers were some strange kind of fate or simply a sick way of torture for him. 

 

It wasn’t until Daesung’s car accident that torture sounded much closer to the correct answer than fate.

 

“It wasn’t your fault Daesungie.” Jiyong tried to sound consoling, tried to fulfill his role as leader and look out for his group mate. It was probably as successful as talking to a brick wall right now. It had already been surprising that Daesung had even agreed to meet up with all of them after he’d holed himself up at his home for way too long. He still looked anything but well and Youngbae and Seunghyun had tried to cheer him up with food and jokes and silliness but it only got weak smiles from Daesung. 

 

Seungri wanted to join and try to cheer up his hyung more than anything. He wanted to be silly, too and make a fool out of himself and just make him forget everything for a while. That was what he’d solemnly sworn to do when he heard that Daesung had agreed to meet up with them. Yet he felt like he could barely breathe since he’d seen the number on Daesung’s chest again.

 

It had lost almost a hundred since the last time he’d seen him. 

 

He hadn’t been able to bring out a single word the whole evening other than absolute necessities. If the attention hadn’t been lying so heavily on their second youngest, Seungri was sure that they would’ve all proclaimed him as sick or something. Like this however, he was lost on his own, feeling more helpless than ever. 

 

_ What if this would continue? What if Daesung would lose more numbers?  _

 

He stole a glance at the other’s chest. It was still the same as an hour ago but that didn’t mean anything. He’d seen people be fine all day and then lose three numbers at once. So what would happen when they were gone again and would let Daesung go back home? What if he lost even more numbers while they were away? 

 

_ What if this was the last time they’d see him properly? _

 

He hadn’t even finished the thought properly when his hand was already moving, grabbing Daesung’s next to him tightly as if it would somehow prevent him from leaving. His action silenced the rest of them immediately and even Daesung looked at him with honest surprise. 

 

“Seungri what-” Youngbae was the first to get his senses together to start a question but Seungri didn’t even pay attention to him, heart hammering in his chest as he looked at Daesung.

 

“Don’t leave us.” he blurted out, immediately embarrassed once he realised what he was doing. He could see the others frown from the corner of his eyes but he didn’t look at them, feeling the tips of his ears getting warm. Daesung was still looking confused.

 

“I have to go home eventually-” he cut the other off, not even caring that his hyungs would’ve probably punched his arm for being so disrespectful under any other circumstances.

 

“No, I mean don’t  _ leave _ us, hyung.” he swallowed. “Please.”

 

He could still feel the confusion all around him from the others. Only Daesung suddenly had a glint of understanding in his eyes. He squeezed Seungri’s hand and finally, finally showed a sincere smile for the first time that evening. His insides grew warm.

 

“Don’t worry maknae. I’m not going anywhere.”

 

And for the first time in his life, Seungri saw the number on someone’s chest go up by 1.

 

\---

 

Weeks went by and Daesung got better. Met with them more often. And every time he did, Seungri watched him closely. He still couldn’t believe it. But slowly, the digits climbed back up. In a few months, Daesung had gained almost thirty more than before and Seungri prayed for it to continue. Because however this was possible, it meant that his hyung was one step further from death, at least for now. 

 

When Daesung’s number had risen over fifty digits, Seungri finally felt like he could breathe properly again. The other smiled once more, if still a bit weak. Dared to joke with them again or even laugh quietly at Seunghyun’s or Seungri’s attics. It was nice. Good. Finally, everything looked like it would be fixed and well again.

 

Until the next world came crushing down.

 

He thought everything was going to be alright, now that Daesung was on his way to get better. He had never expected Jiyong to fall next. The headlines felt too unreal, news about G-Dragon being tested positively on marijuana. He just couldn’t believe it. How could their leader do something as stupid as this? And that especially after they had to fight with Daesung’s case already? Why would he even have done something like this in the first place?

 

He didn’t want to admit to it but when he’d found out, a part of his world had taken a strong blow. A young, naive part of him had always looked up to Jiyong. His genius, his leadership abilities, even if he wasn’t perfect he was the kind of person Seungri couldn’t help but admire. 

 

Knowing that one of his personal idols had been tested positive for marijuana use kicked him out of all the clouds he’d been sitting on until that point.

 

Part of him knew it wasn’t his place to be so shocked by the whole ordeal or even feel as personally let down as he did. He knew there must’ve been reasons, maybe even good excuses why it happened. Yet, he couldn’t imagine a single one and it just upset him too much to be completely fair about it.

 

So when their group decided to meet up with their leader to ask what this was all about, he did something immature. He got himself drunk. He knew it was a stupid thing to do, irresponsible because  _ he _ was barely the one with problems at this point. If anyone had the right to get drunk, it was Jiyong, not him. But at that moment he couldn’t have cared less, meeting with the other’s when he was already tipsy enough to have glassy eyes and red cheeks.

 

“Seungri, are you drunk?” Youngbae asked him with a frown right after greeting him to their slowly gathering group. He was the third to come, with Daesung being second. Seunghyun and Jiyong were still missing. Seungri habitually looked right at his hyung’s face, staring a second too long.

 

He cleared his throat, looking away. “No.” 

 

Terrible lie.

 

“Seunghyun, you’re all red in the face, don’t lie.” Youngbae immediately scolded him, even using his real name but he just shrugged past the other to take a seat next to Daesung.

 

“So what? I can do whatever I wanna. What’s a bit of alcohol anyway if our dear leader is a druggie, huh?” 

 

“ _ Seunghyun! _ Watch your mouth or I-” Youngbae started but was interrupted when the door opened to reveal Jiyong. Every last bit of angry disappointment stayed stuck in Seungri’s throat at the pathetic sight.

 

Their leader looked terrible. His already usually big clothes hung on his frame like they were for someone twice his size, his eyes sunken and lined with dark rims of too little sleep. His cheeks looked boney instead of filled with their usual youthfulness. He didn’t even bother to greet them.

 

“Leave maknae be, Youngbae. He’s got every right to be angry with me.” 

 

Instead of anger, Seungri felt like someone had punched him in the face. 

 

Their leader had lost over  _ six hundred _ . The number on his chest was barely shy of going into two digits. 

 

The last person he'd seen with two digits had been his grandfather. 

 

His bottom lip started trembling without any warning. He blinked, trying to clear his quickly blurring vision but to no avail. He couldn't even see the others properly anymore.  _ No. God, please no. _

 

“I-I’m sorry hyung, I didn’t-” he interrupted himself, snivelling, blinked more rapidly. He tried to hold the tears at bay but it had the exact opposite effect, making them run down his cheeks freely, breaking at his jaw. 

 

“Gosh maknae, did you drink? What are you crying about?” Jiyong tried to tease him, still tried to hide how terrible he felt inside but Seungri could see it more than anyone and so the words didn’t have the intended effect at all.

 

“I’m s-s-sorry”, he hiccuped, trying to wipe his tears but it did little to the new ones following right after, “I r-really didn’t m-m-mean to s-say tha-t.” he wanted to breathe evenly but it was barely possible. Daesung’s hand was already on his back, rubbing soothing circles over it and he felt pathetic but he couldn’t help it. Yes, he’d been angry and disappointed and hurt and it was stupid because not once had he stopped to think about how Jiyong would feel about the whole situation.

 

And now that he saw him, it was too late.

 

What was he going to do if Jiyong would die? What would become of them? Of Bigbang? They’d all perish into sadness and dust and he knew it before anyone else and he could do just as little as them. He hiccuped again, feeling pathetic and weak, tears not stopping at the thought of losing Jiyong when he’d just fought losing Daesung before.

 

“Aw maknae, stop crying please. You’re making me feel bad.” Jiyong was joking half-heartedly again, coming closer to him to ruffle his hair. He didn’t even respond this time, just taking the opportunity to pull their leader even closer and hugging him, his face buried in the skinny stomach of the other. Like that, at least, he couldn’t see the taunting numbers.

 

“What’s gotten into him? I know he’s drunk but…” he could hear Jiyong asking over his head but only silent, probably just as confused, answers came back. Because Seungri knew he was being irrational for anyone who couldn’t see the same thing he did. He knew crying over something so stupid was, well, stupid. But he wasn’t crying over a scandal or over petty words.

 

He cried because he couldn’t bear the thought of losing Jiyong.

 

_ Please _ , he begged in his mind, squeezing the thin frame between his arms a bit more. There was light petting on his hair, the steady hand on his back still running in circles.  _ Please dear God. Give me a miracle. You gave Daesung back his numbers. Please please please give Jiyong back his as well. He can’t die so young. It’s not fair. It’s just not fair. Please. _

 

“Seunghyunnie, you’re getting my shirt all wet. What’s gotten into you all of a sudden?” Jiyong’s voice was soft now, void of any attempts of joking and Seungri’s heart ached at the way he said his name, ran fingers through his hair soothingly as if it wasn’t  _ him _ that was going to die. Maybe Jiyong didn’t know but that didn’t make it any better.

 

“Don’t leave us.  _ Please. _ ” he blurted the words out again, much like the first time with Daesung. He felt the hand atop his hair stilling, hesitating for a moment before two arms wrapped around his head, pressing him a bit closer still for a moment. His chest slowly started to feel warmer.

 

“As if I’d leave you guys behind. Stupid maknae.” the words were still soft but he could hear the affection in them clearly. He just continued to hold onto Jiyong, snivelling slightly. 

 

“Promise?”

 

He could hear small chuckles. “Yeah, I promise.” 

 

Hesitantly, he let go of Jiyong, wiping over his eyes. It was a stupid thought, he knew that. No way a miracle would happen twice, right? No way God would be kind to him a second time. Yet, a small part of him didn't want to give up hope. When he finally looked up, he started tearing up again almost immediately. 

 

Jiyong had gained three numbers. 

 

However it had been possible, God had given him another miracle. He blinked again, not even caring how stupid he must look, starting to cry again. 

 

“ _ Thank you. _ ”

 

\---

 

He found out that it wasn't God or a miracle or some higher power that gave back to both Daesung and now slowly Jiyong. It was him. He wasn't exactly sure why or how it was possible, if his desperation had made it possible in the first place but when he was close to them, when he concentrated a bit and  _ really wanted to _ , he could make their numbers rise. He could feel it in his chest, a now familiar warmth, that  _ something  _ was happening. And then, he could watch the numbers climb up. One, two, three. 

 

Soon, he had Jiyong back up two hundred numbers. 

 

And their leader looked much better, too. Healthier, happier again despite the scandal still hanging over his head. It relieved him because finally,  _ finally  _ he could do something. Finally he wasn't doomed to watch his loved ones die helplessly. Finally, he could make sure nothing would happen to them as long as he was around. Or at least until their rightful times would come. 

 

Which, in Seungri's opinion, wasn't until they were all old men. He wouldn't let any of them die before that. 

 

\---

 

When Jiyong was up four hundred numbers, it started. 

 

At first, Seungri didn't pay attention to it much. His chest felt heavy sometimes but he was too busy to notice. Then, slowly, whenever he rose Jiyong’s numbers a bit again, the warmth he felt every time started to grow just a bit hotter. Last a bit longer. Jiyong’s numbers went up quicker whenever it happened, though, so he didn't mind. 

 

Didn't mind either, when he took care of the rest of his members the same way. Daesung, Youngbae, Seunghyun, they all deserved a long, happy life and if this was a way to ensure that, he gladly pushed their digits a bit, too, whenever he could. 

 

It wasn't until he started waking up in the middle of the night, screaming from hot, burning pain in his chest, that he realised something was wrong. Very,  _ very _ wrong. At first he had the bursts of pain only about once a week, then twice, three times, until he woke up sweating and crying from agony every other night. Then they slowly started to happen during the day, too. 

 

Part of him knew it was because of the numbers. That it had to do with him rising up those of his group. Part of him told him to stop, to look at what it was  _ doing _ to him,  _ where are the numbers even from, how can you even rise them up in the first place?  _ But he didn't stop. 

 

Because another part, a much bigger, older part of him that had watched the numbers on his grandfather's chest slowly sink on his tenth birthday without doing anything, that part couldn't bear to lose his hyungs just yet. And so he continued, regardless. Put on a smile, regardless. Played through the surging hot bursts of pain in his chest whenever they happened while someone was with him. 

 

It was worth it. 

 

\---

 

5

 

Two days after he'd finally finished to bring Jiyong’s numbers back all the six hundred digits he'd lost three years ago, he was at a party to celebrate his success for himself. He was dancing with his friends, laughing and having fun until late at night. When he got tired eventually, he bid them goodbye and went to his car. Sat inside and started the motor, starting to drive. 

 

4

 

The smile that was on his face the whole night still lingered. The content, happy feeling in the pit of his stomach a pleasant reminder that everything was good, great even. Nothing could ruin his achievements nor his mood. 

 

3

 

The pain that suddenly flared up in his chest this time was unlike any other. In an instant, he couldn't breath anymore, couldn't see anymore, blinded by the agony piercing through him in a flash. 

 

2

 

He was still driving. Miraculously not hitting a single other car when his own lost control, ramming the crash barrier and flipping over. 

 

1

 

For the first time in his life, Seungri could see a number on his own chest, faintly and flickering between the pain. The irony wasn't lost on him as he didn't even have the strength to feel scared anymore. He let out a breath. 

 

0

 

And everything went black. 

 

\---

 

He opened his eyes to blinding, glaring, endless white. He felt light, almost weightless in a way he'd never felt before. Like everything that had ever weighted him down was suddenly gone. 

 

“Hello human.”

 

The voice echoed in his mind but he felt no fear. He just turned around slowly instead, confronted with a white figure sitting calmly in front of a giant, black gate. 

 

“I'm dead, right?” 

 

There were no eyes on the human-like form, no nose or anything else except a smiling mouth. “Yes.”

 

The thought didn't bother him the way he'd assumed it would. 

 

“And this is… Heaven? Hell? And you're what, God? The devil?” 

 

“This is Nothing”, the figure chuckled, not moving an inch. “And I had a lot of names over time but I'm none of them. Neither good nor evil. I'm the only thing there is. Call me  _ Truth _ .”

 

_ Seungri _ . 

 

Seungri mustered the white figure, Truth, for a moment. Something in the back of his mind started to feel uneasy but it had nothing to do with what was in front of him. 

 

“So, what happens now?” he asked, sitting down like the figure in front of him for the lack of better options. 

 

Truth grinned. “That's up to you.”

 

_ Seungri.  _

 

“What do you mean, up to me?” he squinted suspiciously. “I thought I'm dead.”

 

“You are.” Truth agreed. 

 

“Then I get to decide what happens in my afterlife or what?”

 

Truth smiled mysteriously. “If that's what you want.”

 

_ Seungri _ . 

 

He blinked. The feeling of uneasiness grew stronger. “What I… Want?” 

 

He looked down, staring at his hands intently. What was it that he wanted? He didn't know. Everything seemed to be gone from his head, all earthly desires like ashes blown away by the wind. A shuddering thought suddenly entered his consciousness. 

 

“How did I die?”

 

“You died in a car crash.” 

 

He suddenly remembered his car, snippets of the party. He remembered a dull sensation, then how he flipped over. Darkness. Then, this. 

 

“So, it was an accident?” the uneasy feeling grew stronger. 

 

Truth tilted its head. “Yes and no.”

 

Seungri frowned. “Why no?”

 

_ Seungri _ . 

 

“Your time had come. The car crash was just a convenient way for you to die. It could've been a heart attack or drowning or whatever all the same.”

 

He tried to understand what was spoken to him. Tried to piece his thoughts together. “So it was… Fate?”

 

Truth tilted its head again, this time the other side. “Yes. And no.”

 

Seungri felt a flare of frustration. “Can you stop being so vague? For someone called Truth you sure are very ambiguous.”

 

“Maybe you're not asking the right questions, then.” Truth smiled. 

 

Seungri stopped at that, looking up again. He thought about what he'd asked so far, a sudden thought coming him. 

 

“Why had my time come?”

 

Truth seemed almost pleased. “Because you ran out of it.” 

 

_ Seungri.  _

 

Another, much bigger set of memories suddenly came back to him. Memories of numbers on chests, memories of them falling, memories of sadness, despair and then, the euphoria when they rose again. The times and times and times again it happened. The pain. 

 

“Oh.” 

 

_**Seungri.** _

 

He blinked in surprise at the voice he could hear all of a sudden, looking around. Nobody except him and Truth were there, though. 

 

**_Seungri._ **

 

He looked around more frantically, the voice getting louder. “What is this? Who's calling me?” 

 

“Your life.” 

 

He looked back to Truth. “My life?”, frowning, “how? I thought I'm dead?”

 

“You might've run out of time but not because it went away. You ran out of time because you  _ gave _ it away. So technically, you're still there. Your life is still calling for you, from other bodies.” 

 

**_Seungri._ **

 

Something inside him picked up a sudden, quick pace. He didn't dare to call it his heart, that was absurd. But it was close, very close. “Can I go back? Is there a way for me to go back?”

 

Truth smiled. “Finally, you're asking the right questions. Yes, there is.”

 

Seungri felt himself go numb with excitement. His heart was beating like a woodpecker. “How? How do I go back?”

 

**_Seungri._ **

 

“All you need is more time. I can give you that. In exchange for something.” Truth’s mouth widened into a grin. 

 

Seungri trembled slightly now. “What, what is it? What do you want so I can go back to them?”

 

Truth stretched out a hand, as if waiting for him to take it. “Give up your ability to see other's time. Give up your ability to give them  _ yours.  _ If you return to your life, you will no longer be able to prevent anything or change anything or see anything. Give it up and you can go.”

 

He held his breath. 

 

**_Seungri._ **

 

“Deal.” 

 

And took Truth’s hand. 

 

\---

 

Everything was pure white, everything was gone. He was blinded, blinking, opening his eyes carefully. 

 

“Seungri!” he could suddenly hear someone's voice, not sure whose and there were figures in front of the blinding light. He felt something grabbing his hand, something else his arm. He blinked a few more times. 

 

Slowly, he could see silhouettes in front of him, one, two, three, four. Colours started to seep into his consciousness, then faces. Seunghyun. Youngbae. Jiyong. Daesung. One after another, he recognised them, saw the worry and relief. Someone was talking. The hand on his own squeezed. Someone else was patting his hair carefully. He had to resist the urge to close his eyes again.

 

Instead, he slowly started to feel parts of his body properly. Felt the dull numbness that probably came from painkillers. Felt the dryness of his throat. The needle of an IV in the back of his free hand. He started to hear the beeping of machines. And finally could make out Jiyong’s voice.

 

“-we were so worried, you idiot. Never do that again, you hear me? That’s leader’s orders.”

 

He gave a weak smile, his voice scratchy. “Sorry, hyung.” 

 

He realised that Jiyong was the one patting his hair, hand stopping shortly before continuing the caress. Their leader sounded nasally, like his nose was stuffed. He could make out slightly puffy eyes, too. “Just don’t kill yourself anymore.”

 

He tried to smile wider. “Promise.”

 

Then he looked over at the others, saw that Seunghyun was the one who had his hand on Seungri’s arm. That Youngbae was holding onto his hand. And Daesung, now that he paid attention to it, had a hand on his leg as well. They were all holding onto him like he’d held onto them. All of them here. 

 

And none of them had any numbers on their chests anymore.

 

With a calm, soothing warmth inside him, he slowly closed his eyes again. From now on, he would take care of his hyungs like any other maknae would. And they would continue to take care of him like they’ve always done. They would joke and be silly and nothing would separate them anymore. Seungri smiled.

 

_ He couldn’t wait. _

**Author's Note:**

> Did I just make a FMA reference in the death sequence? Yes, yes I did.


End file.
